


Artificers

by BubuBORG



Series: Team Medi: Resurgence [2]
Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Picard, TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), Warcraft - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Star Trek Fusion, Fenris Rangers (Star Trek), Gen, M'kraan Crystal - Freeform, Phoenix Force - Freeform, Qowat Milat (Star Trek), Star Trek Picard - Freeform, White Hot Room
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-06
Updated: 2020-03-05
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:20:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22586251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BubuBORG/pseuds/BubuBORG
Summary: While conducting business within the Artifact, Tauriel must engage in intrigue with the top individuals in the Reclamation Project while perusing her own agenda.
Relationships: Kíli (Tolkien)/Tauriel (Hobbit Movies)
Series: Team Medi: Resurgence [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1618627
Kudos: 5





	1. Chapter 1

“All right.Good.”

Tauriel put her device away and allowed herself a smile of relief.Umbriel had made it safely to her uncle’s.

The Artifact never failed to put her at unease.As one of the few of the Quendi who deigned to enter the former Borg Cube, she was allowed as large a latitude through the structure as a Non-Romulan could achieve. 

As such, she strode through almost every security checkpoint effortlessly until she got to the administrative offices, nearly at the Artifact’s heart. 

“Consul.”

She turned her head at the one speaking her title, one granted her by Elrond himself.Which meant she answered only to him and to the governing council of Arda, and a second breath away from the Federation Council itself. 

She’d had several titles over many lifetimes, and this was, surprisingly, not the greatest among them.

She spoke his name simply.“Narek.”Years of Vulcan discipline had not waned with her repatriation among the Elves. 

“Miss Tauriel, I couldn’t help but notice your expediency making your way to the offices.Faster than usual.Anything the matter?”

“Personal, Mr. Narek.My daughter is without me on the anniversary of Mars.”

Narek pursed his lips.“Of course.My far belated condolences to you and to her.”

“Otherwise, my duty is light on this trip.A reaffirmation of our arrangement concerning the artifact, and some other odds and ends.”

Narek perked up. “Oh?”

Tauriel’s gaze was perfectly even. “They are not related to the Artifact and therefore not your concern.No offense.”

“Not a problem.If there’s one thing I’ve learned about you over these last months, is to stay out of your way.However, if you were of a mind to share a meal and we could discuss...anything, really...?”

Tauriel smiled slightly.“I appreciate your efforts, but I would prefer to keep our working relationship staunchly in the realms of professionalism.Perhaps some other time, some other place.”

Narek acquiesced.“You can’t blame a man for trying.”

Tauriel turned to exit the offices, but not before turning back over her shoulder at him.“I’d be highly suspect of you if you didn’t. _Jolan Tru_.”

Tauriel afforded herself a little self-satisfied smirk as she turned back and left to her own area, a place once teeming with regeneration alcoves and a glowing-green distribution node above her desk. 

No, Borg parts reclamation and drone repatriation were not her only task here.

She swept her office, as she did every time she arrived, and used a device her late husband devised to nullify listening devices, technology he developed courtesy of a plain, simple, Cardassian public official.

All clear.

She worked to create a double-encrypted channel through her device and the Borg multiplexing subspace transmitters, many of which were only partially active, due to the state of the Artifact.

Tauriel never failed to be amazed at the how the complexity of the world she leapt into from Mirkwood seemed effortless to her. 

A Romulan face greeted her.It was austere and partially veiled in a wimple-looking covering.“Mistress Tauriel.”

“Have you results?” Tauriel replied, tersely.

The Sisterhood had no need for niceties, which she appreciated.

“We have hints, we have insinuations, we have evidence, but we do not have a child,” the cleric replied.“But despite this, we still have the portents.We still have the vision of the Phoenix.”

It was a vision that Tauriel had witnessed once before, a lifetime ago.That time it was a mad Uruk necromancer* which had captured the cosmic force for his own selfish ends.

In the interim, it was hosted with Sela, whose origins remained to that day complicated and rather suspect. 

There were rumors of Sela gathering power of the remnants of the Romulan navies and crowning herself Empress, but even fourteen years later, there was no evidence of her or the Phoenix. 

There were still places that Tauriel could look, but only as a last resort, as they required her to venture into lands of the dead.

She scoffed to herself.The irony that that mental image would present itself to her in this place, a virtual Borg tomb. 

“Mistress?”

She was shaken out of her reverie by the cleric, still on her comm screen.She had to hurry.Her encrypted signal wasn’t completely invulnerable.

“Remain vigilant.Await my next signal,” Tauriel told her.

The screen winked out.

“That’s quite a trick,” a man’s voice spoke outside her office.

She looked up quickly, and a flash of the old warrior gleamed in her eye for a moment.

It was the Executive Director.

“It’s necessary to conduct my business which isn’t involved with the Reclamation Project without compromising confidences of state,” Tauriel explained.“With all you’ve shared with us, I thought you’d be impressed.”

“I am,” the Director replied.“It also seems that the Romulan trait of subterfuge has successfully...rubbed off on you.”

“We are kindred peoples,” Tauriel replied.“Perhaps you are observing our commonalities.”

“Perhaps,” the Director conceded. 

Tauriel traced the scars on his face with her eyes.The remnants of his own past as a Borg drone remained indelibly marked on him.He seemed to wear his scars as a reminder that he had overcome great adversity to become the individual before her. 

It reminded him of her husband’s own scars, a great river of tissue traveling down his body.

She admired him for that greatly.

“Is there anything I can do to facilitate your affiairs?” He offered.

“Everything is well in hand,” Tauriel replied.

“Are you sure?” He asked and if she didn’t know better, she thought she saw a twinkle in his eye—his organic one, that was.

“Because a name has come across my datastream which may be of use to you,” he said, and placed a data stick on her table.She reached across and took it, activating the holo and looking intently.

The name read simply:

**REMIUS.**

“Is this of some use to you?” the Director asked.

Tauriel nodded, and looked at the face, which was blurry, but artificially enhanced.That of a young man with Romulan features, but with a full head of dirty-blond hair, muttonchop sideburns, and ice-blue eyes.

“Yes,” she replied.“Yes, it is.”She immediately looked at the Director and glared at him.“What do I offer in exchange for this?”

The Director smiled, somewhat lopsidedly due to the nature of his remaining facial implants and scars.“I simply ask that you remain open to new interpretations of mythic possibilities.Things sometimes are more than they seem.”

“I have often found that to be true,” Tauriel agreed, and moved to gather her supplies.She put her detection badge back on her chest and turned to the Director.“Thank you.”

“I hope you find who you’re looking for,” he replied.“As someone who’s been lost, it’s gratifying to help to find someone.”

Tauriel moved back to her transport, once again breezing through the security checkpoints with her usual ease. 

Elsewhere, in Narek’s office, he looked on at her progress out of the Artifact. 

“Remius,” he murmured, sleepily, his bedclothes still rumpled behind him.

He decided to put a pin in that name for now.Pass it along to pertinent points of inquiry.Possibly use it as leverage for...well, he’d figure out what. 

But for now, he figured he had to make a call.

He tapped on his desk terminal.

“Contact Captain Sylvanas of the _Windrunner_ ,” he told the computer. 

Obediently, a holo appeared of a tall Romulan with golden hair.She flashed him a confident smile.

“Is it done?” He asked her.

“The package is delivered,” She reported.“Awaiting further instructions.”

Narek nodded.“Head back home. I’ll handle things from here.”


	2. Chapter 2

Tauriel always liked to visit Vashti, despite the air of silent desperation about it.

Not when it was purely a human colony, of course, but in the intervening years, several of her kinsmen from various points—Rivendell, Lothlorien, and even her home in the Woodland Realm—made a new home here, and served as guardians of the displaced.

It was also here that her contacts in the Qowat Milat presided.

As it was, Tauriel always stood out among the Romulans there.Though most Romulans tended to sport dark hair, the occasional blonde emerged from time to time...

But red hair, especially as fiery as Tauriel’s?

Not likely.

The folks going about their business were dressed in simple everyday outfits, ideal for outside chores.These were not the kind of Romulans who skulked through their capital cities or strode through their once-invincible Warbirds.These were more humble folk who kept goat-like herd animals and poultry, who wove their own outfits for comfort, not style, and who, until their sun had destroyed itself, gave little thought to political machinations and greater purposes. 

Even so, they had guarded looks on their faces as she walked through town. 

The Quendi were regarded by many Romulans with suspicion.Even though many dissidents in decades past had resided within Rivendell, and, indeed, had relocated to Vashti to repatriate themselves with their displaced brethren, There was something about the Elves the Romulans found...disturbing.Their razor-fine features, their gilded outfits, their demeanor.They could get such platitudes and attitudes from the Romulan Senate, if they thought anything of them.

Which made the work of the Elves that much harder.

Regardless, Tauriel walked into the cloister of the Sisterhood and found a familiar face in Zani.

“Mistress Tauriel,” she said plainly.“As usual, your exterior remains as ever eternal.”

“Sister Zani,” Tauriel replied.“Are your blades and your wits as sharp as ever?”

Zani smirked.“May you never need to find out.I thought I’d told you that we had no evidence of what you sought out.”

“You did.However,” Tauriel said, producing a data stick, “Other sources came across something which required me to come to you.Tell me,” She said to Zani, “Is this name and face one you’ve seen?”

The data stick produced its holo-display, the ghostly face of a towheaded young man and a name.

REMIUS.

“The name is not quite Romulan,” Zani said, frowning.“More like an inflection.An homage.”

“A dual heritage, perhaps?” Tauriel asked.“But what about him?”

“One does not come across hair that color often among us,” Zani said.As she spoke, her eye wandered, ever so slightly, to Tauriel’s right, but by that point, Tauriel had already had her hand on the handle of a short dagger.

The motion was swift and nearly fluid, as she moved behind her and placed the blade of her dagger to the throat of a young Romulan man, not quite out of adolescence. As she did so, she smiled dangerously at him.

“It’s good to see your training has progressed so far, Elnor.Most men don’t get five meters behind me without my notice.However—“

The youngster kept his eye on the blade at his throat, his hands at his sides. 

“—As you can see, you have a bit more to learn if you want to best a former Captain of the Greenwood.”

“Yes, Mistress Tauriel,” Elnor replied. 

“Have you made progress with your archery?” Tauriel inquired.

“He prefers the blade, of course,” Zani interjected. “The Qowat Milat know no other weapon, though we are open to other arts.As a matter of fact, we—“

As she spoke, again, her eyes were Tauriel’s tell.Before she could strike again, a single finger tapped her on her shoulder. 

“Tag, Tory.”

The voice was distinctly Terran, but she knew who it was instantly.

She smiled and sheathed her dagger.She turned around and smiled brightly at the green creature before her, with his round head and blue scarf around his neck. His Chelonian shell was obscured from view under his outfit.

“Leonardo!” She exclaimed.He moved to put one arm around her in greeting.“By the Bright Lady, what brings you to Vashti?”

“The Sisterhood, for one thing,” Leo replied.“Felt they had a few things to impart to me about sword technique.”

“I thought you were still running with the Fenris Rangers,” Tauriel remarked.

“True, true,” Leo said.“All the more reason to learn more skills.”

“You have yet to acquire a skill which will halt Kar Kantar,” Zani said.

Leo and Tauriel shared a look, and broke into a shared laugh. 

“You come for the sword fighting techniques, but you stay for the brutal honesty,” he said, and shared the Qowat Milat gesture to Zani, with a deferent bow thrown in for good measure.

“Perhaps the Ranger can tell you what you need to know,” Zani suggested to Tauriel, and walked back to her work.Elnor continued to look on for a time, then left.

She showed her data stream to Leo, who frowned.“What are we looking for, Tory?” He asked.“What’s your interest in him?”

“The Sisterhood told me they had a flash of insight regarding him,” she replied.“With the possible portent of the return of the Phoenix.”

That got Leo’s attention.

He sat down on a nearby bench, and Tauriel joined him.“We haven’t seen any evidence of Sela in nearly twenty years,” Leo said.“There were rumors that she’d died in a Romulan prison after an attempted coup, or that she’d gathered a splinter force of Romulan ships with several generals under her banner, crowning herself Empress...but you know how cagey Romulan intelligence can be.”

“But the Phoenix is not bound to any one person.It can be a fickle entity,” Tauriel said.“Perhaps it has found more fertile ground, as it were.”

“How much lore has built up around Phoenix among the Romulans?” Leo asked. 

“It’s a recurring figure,” Tauriel replied, “With cycles of birth, death and rebirth, as you would imagine.Always an indicator of great catastrophic change of status quo and paradigm.Oftentimes, the Phoenix is used as metaphor, but other times, a real, tangible thing.”

“So do you think this...Remius...is the newest rebirth of the Phoenix?”

“There is another figure in Romulan lore,” Tauriel said, in lower tones.“The Seb-Cheneb.”

Leo frowned.“I’ve heard that word before.From what I’ve gathered, it’s like the Romulan version of Ragnarok.What, do you think the Phoenix and the Seb...whatever are one and the same?”

“The Romulans never approach the Phoenix with fear,” Tauriel said, shaking her head.“It simply is the representation of natural life and death in the universe.Seb-Chaneb is different.It’s the end of everything.An...anti-Phoenix, if you like.”

“So nothing too major then,” Leo joked. 

Tauriel smiled at him.“People like us, you and I, who have witnessed light and darkness as we have...This is nothing.I have faith that the Phoenix will cause us no harm, and the Seb-Chaneb, whatever it may be, will have its harm ceased.”

“I admire the faith of the Elves,” Leo said.“Still...I better report this back to Mama Wolf.“And maybe my other contacts as well.”

“As will I, as I learn more.There are still remnants of the Initiative that we can call upon.You have your gold-feathered mentor to thank for that.”

Leo looked off, over at Elnor, who was still attending Sister Zani.“Yeah.”He looked up at the ceiling, and the sky in general.“Welp, my landing pass is about to expire, so yeah, I better get back up out there.You?”

Tauriel, too looked over at Elnor.“I have more things to learn here, and perhaps things to impart.I will attempt to send Lindir, but he and the Qowat Milat have not quite seen eye-to-eye.”

“All right.”He moved in to embrace her once more.“If this gets any bigger, if something seems beyond you at all...”

She nodded quietly.

“All right, then.”Leonardo tapped at his overcoat.Within moments, he was gone in a flash of static and bright sparkles.

Which left Tauriel to ponder the Sisterhood and their ward, now a young man. 

Once, long, long ago, a young boy was entrusted to the care of a group of Tauriel’s people, cloistered away in a timeless valley. 

That boy grew to become a Ranger, like Leonardo became, and later a King and a unifier of an entire planet.

What, Tauriel wondered, would Elnor become?

She idly flipped a triangular pixmit card between her fingers.She brought it up to glance at it.The phoenix firebird was there.The card’s purpose was to end the game, either for a win or a loss.

She’d see how it would work out for her.


	3. Chapter 3

The Artifact was not entirely an operation of charity. 

The pieces of the ex-Borg the Romulans and the others who came to understand the Borg system were valuable; sanitized versions of the technology they mined were worth their weight in latinum. 

So why did Krakus feel much more valuable when his nano-count was low?

The tech administered the test; she looked impassively at the vial of dark blood and plugged it into the meter.He sat on the exam table, as another, immobilized drone-in-recovery lay, waiting to have their parts mined. 

For many ex-Borg, having their implants completely removed was simply not possible.That meant constant monitoring for their remaining hardware; there was always the possibility that an implant would spontaneously attempt to reconnect to the Collective.

Thus the testing, the siphoning of nano-probes and to test that not too many were being created, and the artificial regeneration cycles.

“You’re clear,” the tech said, without so much as a congratulations.

He got up, and left.

Once, Krakus’s appearance was unlike any other former drone.He sported shining, metallic exoskeletal armor and a shock of white hair that sprung from the top of his headpiece.His special gift involved technomancy, an ability to effortlessly navigate through computer networks and systems. 

These were things, he always thought, that was imposed upon him. 

By the One.

The Synthetic.

That was almost thirty years ago, when he was freed from assimilation, and then, from the android Lore.

For a while, he found another group who used his special gifts as part of another collective of sorts.He joined the Initiative, and worked with other people with special gifts to help with extraordinary challenges and threats.

It was where he met Buffi K’gar.

Times changed quickly soon after.The quadrant was plunged into war with the Dominion and the aftermath changed the map dramatically.

Krakus didn’t even know what species he originally was. 

The Borg wasn’t a race or a species in and of itself. 

The Borg was a system.

But today was a good day.His nano-counts were at 10 parts per trillion, and his cortical implant was keeping local.His regen cycle was three hours max for the week, and he could enjoy napping at his leisure.

He resumed his work, helping other xBs on their own roads of recovery.His own face remained scarred, the outline of his own orbital implant in fleshy relief. His prosthetic eye, more for function rather than form, was a sky-blue color with a constricted iris. 

As he went back to his personal terminal, a signal came through.

A familiar request. 

He looked at the comm network, and manipulated the interplexing array, moving the signals to be routed through the cube’s _vinculum_ , now inert and repurposed. 

Only he, Hugh, and a few other non-Romulans knew that the _vinculum_ still existed at all on the Artifact.

The Romulans weren’t the only ones who could keep a secret or two.

“She’s back, I see.”

Krakus turned to see Hugh, with his usual lopsided smile.“She’s still on her quest.Give her whatever access she needs, but make sure she’s not noticed.”

Krakus nodded and allowed the request to go through.

“Krakus?”

Hugh remained, and Krakus spoke up.“Yes?”

“For all appearances, Tauriel seems to be chasing the Phoenix…is this something we should be concerned about?”

Krakus considered.“It might help if I offered to assist her.It also might deflect whatever fallout her quest would generate away from the Project.”

Hugh nodded.“According to your last checkup, you’re clear to go several weeks without a regen cycle.Think it’ll take that long?”

Krakus smiled.It was almost as lopsided as Hugh’s.

“There’s only one way to find out.”


	4. Chapter 4

Once again, Tauriel was within the labyrinths of the Artifact.Once again, breezing through the checkpoints, as if they weren’t even there. 

Like the refugees on Vashti, the Romulans regarded her with a bit of mistrust and fear. 

She looked like them, sure, but something about her, they noted, was luminescent, whereas they, as Romulans, always had a bit of shadow about them. 

In her cubicle area, she once again accessed the technology of the Artifact to spread her net far and wide throughout the remnants of the Empire.

If only she could have access to an expert in Romulan Lore who could point her in the direction of Remius. 

Finding Sela (or even confirming if she was still alive) couldn’t hurt either.

“Hugh told me you were here.”

Tauriel looked up, her gaze boring into the person at the door. Recognizing him, she beamed.

“Krakus!” she exclaimed.

Krakus was dressed in a dark outfit, and his white hair was combed neatly to one side.His arms were clasped behind his back, and Tauriel couldn’t help but note his prosthetic foot and calf.

“He also suggested you could use assistance,” Krakus added.

Tauriel cursed inwardly.Her desperation was making her careless.“Yes, of course.”

Beside her, Krakus’s eyes turned dark as he began to interface with the systems of the Cube.Unlike most mundane cyber-systems, the Cube’s systems were like swimming in the warm waters of home.

“Krakus,” Tauriel said, her voice distant in his ears as he wandered further and further from her, towards the vinculum and everything else that connected the Cube to the outside universe.

“Krakus, I need you to look for a word that’s been banging around the edges of my searches,” she said.

Krakus nodded, nearly imperceptibly.

“The word…is _M’kraan_.”

Krakus took the dive.

“The crystal,” Krakus said, in his trance state.“The nexus. the neutron galaxy from another world. The source, the hospital place…”

His eyes came back with perfect clarity, he whipped around to Tauriel and said what she needed.

“The White Hot Room.”

Tauriel narrowed her eyes before a new voice spoke.

“Well, we have a scholar in our midst,” a silky voice said, as Tauriel rose to face her.

She was a Romulan, dressed in black, with a bit of flair that Tauriel could appreciate. She was also, Tauriel, noted, fairly armed with a disruptor and an impressive honor dagger, which marked her with a higher rank than her couture would suggest. She smiled faintly.

“Your search history is fascinating,” she continued.“And your…pet? xB seems to be going through places here we didn’t even know were active.”She paused and considered.“I’m sorry, I don’t believe we’ve actually met.I’m—“

“I didn’t ask,” Tauriel said, simply.“My use of the Artifact is perfectly sanctioned—“

“By the executive director?” the Romulan retorted.“By, perhaps an overly accommodating Romulan official?But not by the owners of the Artifact, no?”

“One doesn’t brandish a weapon openly without the intent to use it,” Tauriel said. 

“I don’t see a weapon on _you_ , dear,” The Romulan replied.“But really there’s need to go there if we don’t have to.”

Tauriel turned to the xB.“Krakus.”

Without even an acknowledgement, The door behind the Romulan operative closed.

Tauriel looked at her and smiled.

It was not, Narissa thought, a pleasant one.Mostly because it was one she’d flashed before someone was killed horribly.

“Oh, _dear_ ,” Tauriel said.“Looks like someone is trapped in a locked room with the former Captain of the Woodland Realm.What _shall_ we do?”

Narissa whipped out her pistol and aimed it at Tauriel’s head.

“ _There_ it is,” Tauriel said, and snapped her fingers and held out her arm.On the wall of her cubicle, an ornate dagger in a green leather sheath appeared and leaped to her hand.She unsheathed it in one fluid motion and, before Narissa could even fire a shot, found the blade to her neck.

“Nice moves,” Narissa said, her smooth delivery hiding genuine unease.“Who are you, Qowat Milat?”

“Oh, my dear child,” Tauriel replied, all cold steel.You could never _guess_ what I am.”

Narissa scoffed, looking at the intricacies etched into the blade, still ready to break the skin of her throat.The lettering, which one could mistake for a Romulan dialect, but she knew better.

“You’re Quendi,” Narissa said.“And that is Nandorin on your dagger.”

“Very good,” Tauriel said. 

“Why do you seek out the Phoenix?” Narissa asked.

“You’re not the one asking the questions, child,” Tauriel warned.“I know who your true master is.Why don’t you tell me why the Zhat Vash is pursuing the Seb-Cheneb.”

To her credit, Narissa only reacted with a mild hitch in her breathing, and said nothing.

“Not to look at me, but I’m not as old as many of my people,” Tauriel said. “So any mortal cabal that is older than my 700 years is, frankly, quite impressive.”She relaxed her arm, allowing Narissa a bit more movement.

Her sidearm remained at her side.

“We are not at cross-purposes,” Narissa said.“The Phoenix creates new possibilities as the Destroyer, well, destroys them.”

Tauriel smiled, intrigued.“What are you suggesting?”

Narissa holstered her disruptor.“I’m suggesting a temporary lapse in memory.Like you said, you’re 700 years old, you’re bound to forget a few things.”

“Like this encounter ever happened?” Tauriel suggested.

“Precisely.”Narissa’s smile was confident.

Tauriel slowly sheathed her dagger, never keeping her keen eyes off of Narissa. She moved back to face her.“Krakus?”

The door to the cubicle opened, revealing oblivious workers outside moving about.

“See?” Narissa said brightly.“Now we can be friends.”

Tauriel didn’t share her smile.“In exchange for…?”

“Our activities on this cube is none of your concern, Mistress Tauriel,” Narissa said.“If you do not interfere, then your activities on behalf of…I don’t really care whom…is none of ours.However, we prefer that your search for the Phoenix not cross our paths any more than they already have.”

“Separate hunting grounds, is that it?” Tauriel scoffed.

“If you like,” Narissa replied with a shrug.“But I think you’d agree that if we’re out of each other’s hair, then we’re…”

“Out of each others’ cross-hairs,” Tauriel finished.“That’s fine.But,” She said, and her voice grew dark, and the keen look of her eyes revealed a creature to Narissa that, though she superficially resembled a Romulan, was something older and far deadlier.“The funny thing about memories…is that in the end, they are all that is left of us.So…” she added, her smile twisting upward like the dagger in her hand, “How soon you are all but a memory is entirely up to you.”She gathered up her satchel and moved past Narissa to the door.“Krakus, coming?”

“Yes, ma’am!” Krakus called after her and moved past Narissa, but not before remarking, “Just like my old K-Force days, eh?” and followed her out.

Leaving Narissa alone in Tauriel’s cubicle.

The room was sparse, but with some materials and a photo on the desk space.

She picked it up, and looked at what seemed to be a rather stocky humanoid in a Starfleet uniform, with a graying mane of hair, tied up and an intricately braided beard. 

“The Best Clockmaker on Mars” was inscribed at the bottom.

Narissa found it strangely endearing. 

“Hmph,” she said.“Who knew.”And promptly squelched her admiration down.She knew that if she and the Quendi crossed again, she would be pitted against her for real. 

**Author's Note:**

> * It was Zog the Eternal, who was the Big Bad of “Tribe”.


End file.
